


The Good Gigs

by jenish (phizzle)



Category: Lost
Genre: Group Sex, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-04
Updated: 2005-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:59:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/jenish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sinjin and Patrick belong to jillybinks & ruidoso, Zap belongs to acroamatica. For Pip. Beta by Jilly.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Good Gigs

**Author's Note:**

> Sinjin and Patrick belong to jillybinks &amp; ruidoso, Zap belongs to acroamatica. For Pip. Beta by Jilly.

It only happens after the good gigs. Those nights when the crowd has been eating out of their hands, lapping up every note. Those nights when Liam shines out there in the front, winking to every pretty girl (and boy) in the audience, grinning cheekily at the not so pretty ones. Those nights when Zap's on stage and Charlie takes the lead guitar and _glows_ and fucks the smooth, shaped wood creating this awesome sound out of nothing. Those nights when the air crackles with it, when Patrick knows they're _on_ and Sinjin gets his guitar to sing.

Those nights when Liam opens his arms backstage, letting out a rush of sound, heady with the admiration from the crowd, and Charlie joins in, barrelling into his chest and grinning so hard his cheeks ache. Those nights when Zap slaps him on the back and Charlie pulls him in for a proper hug, murmuring into his hair, "You were great out there tonight." Those nights when Sinjin gets Liam in a headlock and ruffles up the gel in his hair, laughing at Liam's yells of protest.

Those are the nights they never talk about in the cold light of day, when they're sober and things look normal. Each of them sometimes wonders if the others even remember it.

On those nights, Charlie will be the first to make the moves. Charlie is the boldest when he's riding that high of audience infatuation. Zap had expected, if he'd thought about it at all before, that it would be Liam who instigated everything, Liam who did the running and the pushing and the touching. But then, Charlie's always been the tactile sort.

It's always Charlie who touches Zap, first. It's almost their starting signal, when Charlie leans his head on Zap's shoulder, and rolls until his nose is right under Zap's ear. Flicks his tongue out. Zap clutches at his t-shirt, and the night begins.

There's a space, backstage, a communal place they've somehow made theirs in the little time they've been at each successive theatre. Even when they play pubs, there's a back room they somehow acquire without being disturbed. Maybe their presence together emits some kind of beacon, warding off those who might crash their little party.

Nobody wants these parties crashed. Closed invite. Five only, no guests. Zap is included at Charlie's behest, after the first time he brought him in and Liam complained. "Fuck off, he's part of the band," Charlie had said, one protective arm around Zap's bare back. Liam hadn't bothered to argue since.

Some nights, they take it slow, moving, just moving against each other, lips finding patches of skin, not caring who they belong to. Some nights, Charlie and Zap are one unit, wrapped in each other and forgetting the others. Some nights, all five want it faster, harder, and they daisychain. Nobody goes away empty-handed or unsatisfied.

They sleep in a tangle. When Charlie thinks about these nights, he wonders if they're just an extension of the stage show. This is the private part no one else gets to see, gets to take part in. Just you, me and the other boys, he thinks, running his fingers through Zap's hair.

It's been a while since there was a good gig. Since those nights, and did they really exist? They always seemed to melt in daylight, sun streaming in and diffusing whatever magic was there the night before. Maybe they were just dreams, cooked up by the heady atmosphere of everything on stage going _right_.

Charlie knew the band was breaking the night they had a good gig, and just … went home.


End file.
